Perfect Fit
by MezMaroon8
Summary: She's not even his type. He doesn't have a thing for her.
1. Soulmate

**Perfect Fit**

She's not even his type.

She's too short and her lips are too full, her hair is to dark and her eyes are too big. He doesn't have a thing for her, he doesn't. He's just staring at her because she's, well, so weird. She talks all the time about people he'd never heard of, places she wants to go and music he's never played. He doesn't wonder what it's like in her world because he doesn't belong in it. She's too smart and too loud. She's too much. He sighs into his father's armchair and rubs his temple. He doesn't have feelings for her. It's just that she's so different. She's new like a creature in the wild and he just wants to know her.

That's all.

He's not a perv for checking out her ass when she bends down to pick up something off the floor during class, he's a guy, it's totally natural. Except, she has like the best legs he's ever seen and he wonders how they go on for miles when she's so tiny. Once she leans over trying to teach him the piano, his hands tingle and he figures it's just the cool breeze coming from the window making him shiver. It's nothing. He doesn't fantasise about her rosy lips and brushing his own against them, it's just that she's so unique. She's so imperfectly perfect.

He catches a sliver of flesh from her blouse and so his gaze lingers, his throat dries up a little. So what? He's a guy; it's totally cool to check out a hot tiny odd girl. It's nothing. He doesn't have a thing for her. Her hands brush against his when she's packing up her things and her bright brown eyes look at him with warmth, he wonders sometimes what it would be like to be lost in them. He doesn't know why he does it, but her bangs are hitting her eyes, so his fingers stroke them past her face. A blush creeps up her pretty face and he finds himself smiling. His hands strokes her silky smooth hair and trace her jaw until he reaches her plump his. He feels her kiss the pad of his thumb and she almost looks away, as if a deer caught in headlights. She's just so irresistible.

He doesn't know why he does it but it's like a fire ignites in him. His hands cup her face and he kisses her hell out of her, his tongue brushing against her teeth until she grants him entrance, his lips brushing hers as he sucks on her bottom lip. She moans into the kiss and he doesn't think he's heard a more melodic sound before. Her tiny hands grip his waist, the bodily contact heating up his skin as he nipples her jaw, then her ear and gently kisses her temple.

He gulps at the sight of her.

Her hair is mussed and her lips red from his rough kisses and he wonders how someone could be so sexy. Her eyes flicker up at him and he can't help it. He can't help the effect her brown orbs have on him as he dives into her again, kiss her neck and sucking on her collarbone to hear her moan in delight. Her hands rest on his shoulders as he explores her exposed skin, trailing kisses from her jaw, to her neck until he finds the treasure of her chest, her peek of her breasts

He doesn't know what comes over him but his hands knead her breasts as she moans in ecstasy, his ministrations making her stumble against the wall as she ravishes him with a searing kiss, her fingers digging through his hair. He feels his jeans tighten as the friction between them, they're so close now. Her face is flushed, her brush still prominent on her face and her lips moist from his numerous kisses. She's not his type. She's out of his league, he realises.

He smiles down at her as her hands trail down his jeans, the bulge evident from the contact of their bodies as they stand flushed against each other. His hands grip her waist as her hoists her up. Her legs wrap around his waist immediately and he groans at the effect she has on him.

He bruises her neck with more rough hard kisses until she screams as the sensation he gives her. Her hands sneak down his trousers to cup his junior member and he finds himself grunting. Maybe it's because he can't have her that she wants her so much. Her eyes are daring and his own dark with lust, a fire in his exploding like a volcano for her. He realises he's not just got a thing for her, he wants her.

Her hips buckle against his waist, making him harder as she smiles so innocently at his reaction. Her lashes flicker and her eyes are hooded as they stare at each other, amazed by the beauty of them. He hears the zipper open as he continues to kiss her cherry lips, tasting her vanilla scent and honey skin. He finds himself exposed now, her hands stroking him as he grows harder against her hand. He finds himself out of breath from the steady pace of her ministrations.

'Stop.' He can't take this any longer. He has to have her, be in her, get her out of his system.

'Why?' Her tone is so soft, so innocent, it kills him.

'Because I love you', his throat raw from the emotion the words exude.

'So what?' Her words sear through him like a dagger.

'We should...we shouldn't.'

Her eyes shut instantly, his hands resting tightly on her waist to nail her to the strong wall. He finds her hands circled around him, still now as they breathe; the air thick. Her own large hands cover hers now as he stills her against the wall. He pants heavily now as she stays so quiet, too quiet. He has to ask, he has to know. Not knowing is going to be the death of him. They can't just keep playing around like this, fooling around and kidding themselves there's nothing.

'Do you...?'

Her breath stills as her eyes meet his own hazels orbs, her hands reach up to stroke his face, marking his freckles as she leans closer to kiss his stubbles.

'Yes.' She utters it so faintly and too quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

That is enough invitation he decides as he hands ride up her skirt and he drills into her, hard and fast as she yelps.

'Yes!Yes!Yes!'

He loves that he can do this too her, it's like taming a tiger in the wild. Her face reddens from the exertion and he creates a steady pace as her hands circle his shoulders, gripping into him as her nails dig into his skin through the thin white shirt.

They moan and grunt simultaneously that night, their sounds creating a perfect rhythm as their bodies meld into the other perfectly. He realises, he doesn't have a thing for her, he doesn't just want her, and he doesn't just love her.

She's his perfect fit.


	2. Other Half

**Perfect Fit: Other Half**

He isn't smart. Nobody has to spell that out for him, people don't call him dumb but they sugar-coat words like slow and unfocused. He doesn't always pay attention to class but right now he's sitting through a philosophy lesson.

Out of a chance encounter he catches the bald man with the spectacles taking about some guy called Plato. He thought that was a planet... Anyway, so this Plato guy came up with this theory or statement about how the human race is incomplete, that we are actually born as a half and we wait our whole life waiting for the other half, our soul-mate to make us whole.

That doesn't make sense, right? I mean, we can't be born as incomplete because then how would we find ourselves? And what if you never find your half or your soul mate, does that mean you wander around as half a person forever? He doesn't understand a lot of things, but he understands emotions, people and he understands instinct.

So when this petite little girl walks into the room, with this effervescent glow and a blinding mega watt smile, he can't help but think maybe it's her. She has this strange effect on him, his heart beats a mile a minute and everything just disappears, like a star in galaxy shining bright or a singer in the stage, she just fits into his world too perfectly. He knows then, he won't be alone forever, he won't be the goofy slow jock or the friendly giant everyone calls him. She makes him see things different, it's like she has these special lenses into the world and she believe he has a future before he can survive the present.

He can't help himself. He is completely and utterly captivated by this strange odd little person. She dresses like a pre schoolers and she talks like a genius with million dollar words he can't understand. But when she's here it's like he zones out and her voices drowns out all the noise, they stay in still motion, just them. He wants to know how this Plato guy figures out the other half is meant for the incomplete person.

Up until then, his world was sports and classic rock, drinking until late hours and sharing war wounds with Puck who calls himself the sex shark, hearing hi goon about all the girls he's had. His mind wanders off about this brunette with the tan legs, a voice of an angel and words he doesn't understand. She's smart and talented; she sure as hell is not going to be anchored with a Lima loser, like him. She's going to get out of here so why would she even have any interest in a dumb jock like him? Rachel is a diamond in the rough, the gold in the sand and the pebbles in the water. Finn Hudson is the grass to soil. He doesn't deserve her.

It takes him almost three months until they even exchange words. They're lumbered together for a science project, she has that concentrated focus on her cute little face, he's smirking down at her as she scribbles away notes he doesn't understand. He's caught off guard when she looks up at him, almost annoyed.

'Are you going to do any work at all? Because that's fine, I'll do the assignment and I'll just out your name on it. I know how jocks work. So you can just sit pretty and stare. Go ahead, stare at the freak show.'

He can't help but chuckle a little at her ramble. 'I don't really get it'. She rolls her eyes.

That's when he knows he's in trouble.

They're in the library. He doesn't know what or who has taken over his body but he feels like a pod. He doesn't go to the library; he's never stepped huge foot in this place. She's seated right opposite him, totally ignoring him while he stares at her intently, watching her scribbles away again. It's quiet for almost an eternity before he hears the tearing of paper.

'This is your list.'

Now he's confused. A list of what? For what exactly?

'Uh...' Something about this girl, her intensity and her bossiness makes him really nervous, so nervous he loses words and can't speak or summon a sentence.

'List of demands. I do the assignment for you. This is what you have to do for me.'

His eyes scan the paper, her cursive handwriting just as pretty as her. He smiles a little. She's drawn a star next to her name. She's so girly and cute, it makes him giggle.

Her eyes look at him expectantly.

'Wait...you're going to do my work for me? That's real nice of you and all but Mr Simmons kind of knows my record and I'm not really good at science so I'm guessing you're top of the class. I don't want to give in work which is you...not mine. I'd get caught and I don't want you to get into trouble. I'll do my part, just give me the easy tasks or something, I'll contribute.'

He doesn't know what he's said to offend her but her face moulds into a scowl then.

'Seriously?'

'Err...' And here comes more stuttering. Man she's scary for someone who's so freaking tiny.

'You want to get credit for this work by actually doing the work?'

'No... I don't...I don't know. Uh...don't you want me to?'

Her veins are popping up and her cheeks are flushed, her eyes tired. He figures she's one of those burnouts. He barely sees her around, she's probably holed up in this dusty place most of them when she's not bossing people around about the school play and dictating the drama clubs and whatnot. They call her the Drama Nazi cos she's all hyped up on stardom.

'Okay. Fine. But you better be serious. No slacking.'

'S-sure.'

She's scribbles out a whole new list now and tears it up for him.

'The rules.'

This is going to be a nightmare.


	3. Funny Business

_**AN: I want to thank you all for your kind reviews, it really makes it more fun to write the story. Anyway, you'll see more of Finn's boyish thoughts in this chapter and I hope you enjoy it!**_

**Perfect Fit: Funny Business**

It's when he gets home, peeling off his denim jacket that his rough bulky hands finds a crumpled up piece of paper. It's her list. He can't help it as his face creases into a half smile, his trade mark smirk. It's at the top of the list and he's already broken the rule before he knew it.

_Number 1. No funny business._

His stomach bubbles into a chuckle. This girl is funny. It's like she's psychic. How else could she have known? They barely speak, she just bosses him around and it's kind of sexy, like really sexy. Her face is serious and all concentrated; it makes it difficult for him not to be distracted. There's a pretty blush on her face and her brown eyes are glowing. Her hair is all disheleved and her bangs fraying into her hooded eyelids, he has this heavy temptation to reach out and stroke her face. _God, when did he become a creep? _

They finish the project; he obeys each of her commands but breaks one rule, he figures she doesn't know since she just ignores him. She doesn't even look at him, to her he's probably like an olger, like Shrek and she's the pretty princess. Why would she want him? That's the first science assignment where he was graded a B- and he figures it's all down to her, she's just so freaking smart. It's kind of intimidating, her passion, her enthusiasm and how intense she is. But mostly he thinks it's just so damn hot. She talks a million miles a minute and he barely listens, she just keeps giving these lists instead and it's better that way cos then he's not captivated by her rose red lips.

He hops into his shower and his hands immediately find the bulge, his mind flashing with images of her in her teeny tiny skirts and her tight shirts that highlight her breasts perfectly, her full lips and her bright brown eyes. He can't help it, she barely touches him unless it's to hand him another list, their hands tingle from the contact for a second but he's hard. He figures she must be like a superwoman, to have that powerful an effect on him. In a way, Rachel Berry is the epitome of a superwoman, she's intelligent, funny, cute and her voice is so musical even when just speaks, mostly just orders him around. What's with those lists anyway? He figures it's one of her quirks. Just like his...erm...problem, down there.

She's extraordinary because she's always rushing around and getting a million things done at once, he knows they don't exactly run in the same circles, with her being the president of Drama Club, lead in the school musical and top of every class, she also has a great set up friends, those band nerds his pug head jock friends taunt. She's just so energetic all the time. It's kind of exhausting to keep up with her.

He jerks off as the cold water rinses his tall muscular body, and his eyes close for the entire time while he cleans himself off, imagining her petite slender naked form against his, itching and scratching her honey coated skin with the scrub, he suppress a moan. _Crap. He's a pervert. _

If he were a dog, she would be his leash, he figures. He's that whipped. He follows her with his hazel eyes while she stalks down the hall, head high, chin up, a confident smile, hip swinging, as he checked out her ass. He gulps when he finds that precious skin on her chest exposed under her low cut blouse. It's red and inviting and he can't keep his eyes off her, he's so hypnotised by the peak of her breasts. He grunts silently, now he's going to fantasise about touch them kneading and weighing them against his hand. Crap. He can't get a hard on in school, it would be so embarrassing. He feels his jeans tighten, the bulge creating friction down south. He shuts his eyes and wishes it away. When he open them, she's standing right in front of him. His throat dries up immediately like the Sahara desert and he find he's lost all power of speech when she stares at him like that.

She has a smirk on her face. Oh no, does she know? Can she see it seaming against his jeans. He hopes not. He swallows. Her eyes are dark and intent, but she doesn't speak. She just stares at him for like the longest time and he looks around to see what's going on but she doesn't move, glued in her spot right opposite him.

He's got that clueless expression on his face until her words make him jerk his head.

'You need to stop staring at me like a love sick puppy.'

Her voice is different today; she's distance, colder and more ominous. She hates him. She completely despises him. His blood runs cold from her glare.

'Stop it!'

He gulps. 'I'm...I'm sorry. It's just, you're really pretty hot and stuff. Erm...'

Why does she turn him into a mumbling idiot? Sure he's not the smooth operator or anything but usually he has a handle when it comes to the girls, especially the bimbos on the cheerleading squad. He's the quarterback after all. It's not like he couldn't have her if he wanted to. It's just he knows she wouldn't want him, a part of him aches at that truth.

Maybe he's been too lost in his thoughts, channelling his masculine vulnerability and his fears of rejection from the force to be reckoned with Rachel Berry but within seconds, she's out of sight. And he finds himself missing her. What on earth is this? He barely knows her. So they spend more time together, after the science project, he let it slip that he and Puck were trying to create a band to make conversation or find some common ground since he knew she was like destined to be a star; she offered to give him these piano lessons. Big deal. It's not like she wanted him as a friend, this was a good opportunity for her to pass on her talent. At least that's what she said.

He wondered through the auditorium after football practice by accident and he heard her sing, it just stirred something in him in a good way. She looked so delicate on that stage with the limelight on her complexion and her voice, it was indescribable. It was like heaven and he felt like he was floating in the wings of the clouds as the sound of the music from her mouth echoed through the entire space of the room. What she had was infectious, the way she was in her element in that moment, so beautiful and content, yet so alone but perfectly independent. Anyway, it just stayed with him, the sight of her at the centre of that engulfing stage. Her petite frame stood out amongst the blinding lights and the thousand square feet of space. She was unforgettable. It was then he realised he was screwed. He didn't just think he was hot, she was just downright gorgeous.

Of all the things in his life, his football and his inevitable sports scholarship to college, his mother who was like the best woman in the entire world and his best friend Puck who never failed to make him feel like a man even when he was being a wuss.

She stood alone as the sole object of his affections, distracting him with this relentless notion of being the other half, his missing piece.

They laugh sometimes, he tries to humour her with lame jokes and she giggles. It's the cutest sound ever and he can't help it, her laughter is contagious just like everything about her. He loves how her tiny hands cover his to direct him to the keys of the piano, resounding the music they make randomly. They're sat so close together, his thighs brushing against hers, radiating heat from his body, her hair is falling in front of her face as she stares at the keys, guiding his long fingers.

He can't help it, maybe because he's a guy or maybe it's because she's just that perfect, too perfect that she makes his brain turn to mush to the point he can't say anything without sounding completely stupid.

'I like your hair'. _Oh god, kill me now. Kill me now. Kill me now. _

Why? Why did he say that? He has no idea how those words rolled off his lips.

She looks up then and laughs. He could hear that laugh forever, it's so giddy and cute and just so distinctive. It's her laugh and he could recognise it from a mile away.

'Thanks', she murmurs, before clasping his hands again and directing them along the piano.

He sighs, relieved she doesn't think he's like a creepy stalker who is enamoured by her or something. Maybe she finds him adorable, maybe she think he's cute too.

Wishful thinking.

It happens, just randomly, out of the blue. His hands cup her face and their lips are inches away from each other, he feels her eyes dart to meet his, and it's impulsive, he doesn't even think. He just kisses the hell out of her, all the pent up emotion and desire bursting out of him as his hand travels up her naked thigh, his tongue slipping into her mouth, his teeth biting her upper lip as he hears her moan against the kiss. Her hands fist his hair as he guides her down the piano bench, hovering over her.

They just stare at each other, shock and satisfaction etched on their flushed faces.

Before he knows it she's pulling his face down to meet hers, locking his lips with her sweet strawberry tasting mouth. God she tastes good. He always figured she's taste of berries, just plain delicious. He can't resist her any longer.


	4. Dreams

**_AN: Sorry about the confusion, thanks to some of you pointing it out, I need to let you guys know this story goes backwards. The first scene is later than the rest of them. We're getting to the aftermath of that epiphany. Enjoy reading and let me know what you think! :) _**

**Perfect Fit: Dreams**

She walks out. Just leaves him standing their panting and sweaty. Barely utters a word. His lips are bruised from her kisses and he has this huge smile on his goofy face. He feels kind of hurt that she left, leaving him wanting more. Maybe she's a tease. Or maybe she's really not interested. That kind of hurts more. He rushes home, throws his bag on the floor and rips his clothes off his skin. He needs air from the how hot and flustered she left him, he needs a cold shower. He stares at his phone as he dries off, wishing she would at least call or text or something. God, when did he become such a girl? He just can't seem to get her out of his head. It's like she'd invaded his brain and she's all he thinks about. Every freaking day. He snoozes off; his phone clasped in his hand, waiting for some sign of communication from her end, indicating anything she may or may not feel for him. Nothing, the screen is blank before he shuts his eyes closed that night. He dreams of her wanting him like he wants her.

It's at the middle of his psychology lecture, he comes across the term. Daydream. She's sat like ten rows in front of him and he watches the back of her head like it's some kind of gold mine, completely fascinated by how her silky smooth shiny mahogany hair flies around against the windy air the window. He finds himself unable to breathe. She hasn't spoken to him since. He's not even bold enough to ask if she's going to be going him another piano lesson. There's this awkward silence between them whenever they're anywhere near each other, she just clears her throat and asks to be excused, out of sight within seconds. He doesn't get it, he's a good kisser, lots of girls would die for him to kiss them. Did she not like it or something? She only a couple of metres away from him, scribbling hurried notes on her notepad again, he realises she's too far away from him. Not physically but in every way. She's out of his league; from another world where people speak with fifty dollar words he doesn't know the meaning of, she's too out of reach. Maybe he's just not good enough for her. Maybe that's why she ran out, because she knows she can do better, it kind of kills him.

He finds himself staring into space, when his teacher asks him a question. She turns around then, to alert him.

'Er, Mr Hudson, can you tell me what dreams are made of?'

If only he knew, he wonders. He doesn't hear the lady because he's too busy staring at her shiny brown head.

'Psst.'

'Mr Hudson, can you answer the question, please?' The tall Asian lady speaks, with a hint of exasperation and annoyance in her tone.

'Um. Dreams are when we collect the memory of our day in our brain. So when we sleep we gather up all the stuff that we experienced and try to make sense of it by processing it.'

Everyone is staring at him like a he swallowed the sun. Did he get it wrong, because it wouldn't be the first time he said something stupid. He finds her eyes, all glistening and alert, staring right back at him with a proud smile on her face, nodding slightly. He figures he's got it right, for once.

She's the girl of his dreams or in his dreams.

She's smart and she's just so damn perfect in her own peculiar way. He likes how she randomly mumbles things when she's trying to concentrate on the keys of the piano or when they're talking, how she talks about this Barbra woman, he figures its own of her idols. Most people think it's weird but he thinks it's cute. He likes how her nose scrunches up when she's grossed out; it's the most adorable thing ever. Like that time he told her he has to spray Dettol on his legs after practice because of growing pain, like he isn't enough of giant. He likes how she laughs at his lame jokes and how cups her face with his palm, like that time she told him she's never played football in gym class because she has this fear of the ball hitting her. He can't help but laugh, he tells her he would teach her ball after she teaches him the piano. She has the brightest smile of her face.

'You would do that for me?'

It's like she's shocked he would return the favour or something. He gives her a crooked smile in return.

'What are friends for, right?' _I want more though._

They haven't spoken all week and he finds himself missing her. She was supposed to come after he was done with practice so he could teach her football on the field, just the two of them. She's nowhere in sight.

He's packing up his locker, his torso damp from the exertion of the exercises his coach had him perform. He finds her hiding behind the showers, like a scared kitten. He walks to her.

'Rachel?'

Her face peeks out of her hiding place. She couldn't be more adorable if she tried.

'I'm sorry; it's just the balls...in the field. Kind of scares me. I know it's silly.'

His face lights up. 'You came for me? I mean for you know, the practice.'

'Yeah, we had a deal', she says matter-of-factly. He was hoping she missed him too.

He eyes her up then, no talk about their kiss a fortnight ago, just her and him in the gross feet smelling locker room. She's in her shorts, he finds himself scanning her toned tanned legs before his eyes find the tank top beneath the hoodie. She makes sports look sexy.

A girl who can do that is the prize to him. He'll see her in his dreams again tonight.


	5. Strangers

_**AN: I seem to be spoiling you guys, but this fic had been great fun to write with all the good feedback. So we're getting closer to the aftermath of scene one. Fic almost over. Enjoy!**_

**Perfect Fit: Strangers**

It's like they're strangers again, they barely speak unless it's to talk about how he's doing with learning music, not great since he doesn't how to read it or if she's gotten rid of her fear of balls. It's awkward and silent, he hates it. He misses making her laugh; he misses her talking to him like he's her friend instead of this guy who kissed the hell out of her and someone she walked out on because she's simply not interested in him. The kiss is still forgotten, she's all work and no play these days. For a while he thought he had gotten her to loosen up, she was smiling and laughing, finally at lease around him after the agonising silent treatment. At least things were fine and dandy he touched her with his big gangly hands. He kicks off the chair, he's so frustrated. Why won't she talk to him?

They were on the field with the ball machine, when he was instructing her on how to position herself so she could catch it from the direction it was coming from. His hands circled her waist and their bodies were pressed together, her back against his chest, when she wiggled out of his hold. She just left, thanked him for the 'session' and walked out. It was accident, it's not like he would caress her boobs or anything, his eyes were focused on the machine and he was pulling her waist. Maybe he like touched her butt without knowing.

This sucks! She won't even look at him anymore; she just talks to him like a perfect stranger. She was his perfect stranger until now; he had to screw it up again. Well done, Frankenteen. God, why does he have such giant hands! They weren't even friends anymore; at least it didn't feel like it. Sure he has the jocks on his team goading him over how the blonde haired cheerleading captain keeps eye fucking him in the games but he hates she's not there. He doesn't care that half the school wants him or wants to be him. He wants her back. It sucks.

He's sick of this, her avoiding him or talking to him like she's his tutor or something. They used to be friends and he knows she likes him as much as he likes her now. Otherwise, why would she react like that? If you had told him a few months ago, that he would become captivated by a short tiny petite brunette with small breasts and brown eyes, he would have laughed. He usually goes for blondes, usually bimbos for the cheerleading squad that he can just dispose of.

He feels like a part of him is missing when she's around. He remembers that Pluto guy, the whole idea about half a person and how the other person is the missing piece to making them whole. It's her. She listens to all his goofy stories and doesn't call him stupid, he doesn't declare her love for him after watching him in a game or hyperventilating, she's just her, Rachel. She's his other half. So he has a little crush and fantasises about her, she kind of turns him into a mumbling girl, so what? It's not like he can't get action elsewhere. It's just, he doesn't want anyone else. He wants her, intense, crazy, quirky, talkative Rachel Berry.

He's kind of hoping she'd make the first move. That way there's no painful rejection or embarrassment on his part when he asks her out, to be more than friends and less than strangers. You see, he's the guy who just kisses and doesn't tell, maybe it's Puck's influence but he got used to not getting attached to pretty girls with long legs that never seem to end. For someone that tiny, she sure has a great pair of legs, tanned and toned and perfect for his hands to run over her honey skin. He doesn't just want a good lay or passionate kiss, he wants her all the way, he wants to go long haul with her. If she'll have him. So this is it.

He stalks into the dark empty room; she's clonking a set of keys on the giant black shiny piano, talking about something with the red headed pianist. What's his name? Barry...Ben...Oh right Brad. Yeah, that guy always around. So he clears his throat to let her know he's ready for the piano lesson and the ginger haired guy disappears out of nowhere. They're all alone now. She's watching him with her eyes but doesn't speak. He's gonna say it. He's gonna tell her he has feelings for her, maybe even loves her. Everything aside from the dirty dreams cos she'll think he's a creepy pervert. She takes out the sheet music, and gets her stuff ready.

He's waiting for something. To say something. Maybe tell him he misses his friendship too. But she doesn't, she gets into teaching mode again and he sits by her. He wants to bring it up but she stifles the conversation he wants to start.

'About the kiss...'

'It was nothing. Just got caught in the moment. You're a guy and I'm a girl, we have needs. Anyway we have a piano lesson and after I have a student council so, let's get on.'

She's so distance, even though they're so close now, sat together with music for company. He realises she's shutting herself off; she's decided there is nothing between them. It's all lessons and sessions, music and sports. Finn and Rachel without Finn and Rachel. She's gone. The girl he was getting to know, she's gone. She's back to being star student and all round multi-talented drama queen, he's back to being the dumb jock with a pea brain.

He's had it. That's enough. He's not denying it anymore, he sure as hell isn't having her brush it all off as a 'moment'. She's talking keys and tempos; he's blocking it all out, just gazing at her like she's a pod instead of Rachel. The girl. His girl. His hands tingle from her touch and he can't suppress the pent up emotions anymore, the desire to have her, all of her. He has to tell her. That he has a thing for her. He will, he's just waiting for the right moment.

They're done with the lesson, done with pressing keys and hearing them chime. It's just them in a large dark spacious room with silence for company. He wants to clear his throat. Instead he just stares as she gets up, her ass perking up as she bends down. What? He can't help it. He's a guy. Guys look at asses. Hers is nice and round. Perfect ass. She's perfect.

He wants to make a sound or a noise, something to alert her attention and let her know he's there, waiting for her like no tomorrow. Waiting for her to change his world for the better. He stays still, silent and says nothing instead.

She's sat on the bench again, sifting through her bag when he finds her hair in eyes, he leans in to brush them away, his gaze lingering as their eyes meet. She's his half. He's screwed.


	6. Ying and Yang

_**AN: This chapter would be a little odd to you guys cos it actually leaves off from the first scene, the intimate revelation and tryst. This fic isn't really chronological so bear with it. It's last chapter and it goes into the aftermath of Finn's confession etc. I loved writing this story and it was a pleasure hearing from all of you with your kind constructive feedback. Enjoy!**_

**Perfect Fit: Ying and Yang**

They just had sex.

The face stroke led to the lip locking and then they were ripping their clothes off and uniting as one. Hot wild crazy dirty sex. In the auditorium against the wall. They're against the wall, her head falling back and his own ducking down to breath from the exertion their bodies have thrived on for the past hour. He just told her he loved her and she said it back. That a huge deal, right?

It just the silence and their warm breath, that's the only music, left in the room after hearing her glorious moans and his grunts. They did it like 6 times, against the wall, the piano, and then stumbling on the wall, the last two times they were slumbered against the floor. He felt her nipples harden under his long fingers, her finger tug at his russet hair while he kissed her pulse and every inch of her, he heard her breathy moans as he filled her in with all of him. They're passed out against the floor, half naked, lips bruised from the vigorous kisses and bodies sour from ravishing each other. 6 times! He only done it with 3 girls most of them blonde bimbos from the cheer squad. _Wow. She doesn't compare. _He's tasted her clit with his tongue and she's stroked his erection, he's sucked her raw nipples and cupped her breasts in his bulky hands, she's grasped his ass as he drilled into her over and over again to hear her scream his name. He's licked the aisle between her breasts, marking her as his with his butterfly kisses as she pulled his head down to engage in a battle of their tongues, hypnotising her with her cherry mouth and her vanilla body scent, her fingers scraping his back and her tiny dainty hands massaging his pecks.

She's like a goddess, her body is his wonderland and he loves exploring it. His fingers graze her hip bones, while he watches the panel of her stomach rise and fall as she breathes franticly. She looks so beautiful right now, her hair messy and loose, her lips red and raw, her face flushed in a deep blush with her eyes glaze with ecstasy. Her skin is like gold silk, soft and pure. She's glowing and her lips morph into a smile as she recovers from their sex. He leans up, balancing himself on his elbows to stroke her hair as he matches her smile with his crooked half smile.

'Hey,' His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper in the dark evening.

'Mmmm.' She's licking her lips and her eye lids are lazily shutting down as he edges closer to her, pull him against his chest to rest her delicate head, sweaty and mussed hair on her scalp.

He's gently rubbing her rubbing her arms as her lands limber on his warm naked chest, grazed his pecks a little as he sighs heavily. So what happens now? Do they go back to being awkward or is this the end of all the awkward tension between them? She better not walk out or make one of those damn list of rules again!

'Finn?'

His eyes look down at her, she's like a breath of fresh air in a crowded landslide or rain in the dessert, and she's just that precious.

'Baby, what's wrong?'

'Does this mean we're not friend or more than that or...?'

_Hang on a second, is it the Rachel Berry a tad speechless._ He braces himself and smirks subtly.

'Whatever you want.' He says simply, stirring to face her and bring her closer to him again.

Her brown orbs flick up and her lashes flash to meet his own tired warm hazel ones. Her expression is playful and serene all at once.

'Did you mean it? I mean you, like, get caught in the moment...cos that's fine if it was that.'

'No. I meant it.' His eyes pour out all the honesty in him, his tone sincere and his gaze at her intense as he looks at her longingly. 'I've been meaning it for a while.'

She swallows. Her full lips curving into an 'o'.

'Oh, I didn't. I thought you were just being a guy. You really feel that way about me.'

He wants to tell her about the Plato guy and the whole significant other half and soul mate garble but he figures that would freak her out even more. So this is what it feels like. When you find your other half, you fit perfectly together, whole in unison. Content, happy and just plain peaceful. Where you talk without speaking but understand each other perfectly. She finds his hand, his own giant counterparts engulfing hers in a tight hold as she snuggles into him, whatever meeting she was rushing off to forgotten as they just lay there together, her nose nuzzling his shoulder, as his holds her.

Before her, there was always a part of him broken, his walls building a barrier around him for protection, she broke them to find him and made him whole again. Before her, he had this eternal fire burning in him wanting to be put out, she found it and blew it out with her sweet whispers and lit him right up to the core. Before her, there was no him, just a guy without a name. Now they're Finn and Rachel. Ying and yang. Fire and water. Complimenting each other like a tempo to the symphony, making sweet music chiming away into the wildness. Two chains to a melody, lost without the other.

They were two pieces of a puzzle creating the bigger picture, a landscape of blue skies and green trees, flower beds and basking in glow of the effervescent sunlight. She was his light in the darkness, guiding him home.

He's gotta thank that Pluto guy sometime, without him he'd be walking around like a zombie as half a person instead of this lucky guy with the best girlfriend in the world on his arm.


End file.
